Vanishing Race 10: Thinking Of You
by Behind Your Cover
Summary: (StephenWill) Another story from 2003. Number Ten in the sporatically written Vanishing Race series, named after the CD by Air Supply released in 1993. Stephen comes home to find Will's changed, and he doesn't know if it's for the better. INCEST


**_Vanishing Race #10_**

**Thinking Of You**

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I knew he was going to grow up some day. The baby can't very well stay a baby anymore, now can he? No, I didn't really think so. At least I don't think I did.I don't think I expected him to be so... adult so soon. It's like he skipped from fifteen to twenty in only two years. Yes, it's been two years since I've seen him, don't look at me that way. I couldn't get leave, ok?Maybe... maybe I didn't want to come home? Yes, I didn't want to come home to find this.I didn't really expect him to grow up so handsome. He's always been adorable to me, but now my opinion of him isn't really swayed by the doting older brother side anymore. I don't know how I should talk to him, I'm afraid I'll do something I shouldn't--say something that would push him away. I don't trust myself. That's my excuse for avoiding him the way I do.I'm not sure how longer I can avoid him. I don't know if I can bare the pain in his eyes anymore every time I look away without speaking--and Robin's told me too, told me that my baby brother wanted to talk to me and what I was doing wasn't right. He asked what was wrong with me.  
Did I tell my younger brother? Oh no, of course not. How crazy do you think I am? He would be sickened; he would be disappointed. I'm not going to be that kind of an older brother-- aren't I supposed to set a standard? To be an example to them?Some example, I barely see them.Barb also had a chat with me; told me I was being selfish and was hurting him. But I'd rather hurt him really, then have him hate me. Ok, maybe I am selfish. Maybe I do need to stop dodging him.He's sitting on the window seat; everyone else is outside. They know to stay clear--oh, I wish they were close by. I wish there were someone else for him to run to besides me.How did he notice me? I hadn't moved; I hadn't spoken. That's unlike him to look up from a book like that; but he's smiling at me. It's hard to believe that is the same boy that used to look up at me through his bangs like I was the best person in the world and I was the solution to every problem. His face has gotten less innocent and more adult, but why... Why couldn't those eyes stop looking at me that way?The smile fades from his face and I can almost see the worry in his blue eyes, "What... what's wrong, Steve?"What's wrong? What's wrong... is that I'm not seeing you as the little boy in oversized clothes and hair over one eye anymore. What's wrong is that I see you as an attractive man now; you don't know how much this scares me. I see a slight, sensuous figure wrapped in blue jeans and a sweater; I see enchanting blue-gray eyes that mirror my own. I've come to love the light voice, that, though not it's former lilting soprano, is a beautiful baritone that borders on tenor and that I hear the most wrong things whispering to me in my dreams...He asks again, "Steve? What's wrong?"What's wrong? I'm thinking this way about my baby brother, that's what's wrong!"Stephen?"I cross the room. I think my feet are moving by themselves, because my brain is screaming to say 'nothing', and to tell him to come outside to be with our family. But I don't. I walk up to him--we're away from the window now, and he's looking up at me in wonder, a small victory flashing in his eyes that he might find out why I've been avoiding him.It's easy to tell that he's uncomfortable with the silence, but he doesn't say anything. He closes the gap between us, wrapping his arms around me and laying his head on my chest. He surely must feel my heart beating--"I've missed you." he said quietly, "You don't know how much." he looks up at me with those eyes.My arms wrap around his waist, as I smile at him as gently as I can, "You've grown up." That's all I trust myself to say, really."Yeah..." he says softly. He nibbles on his lower lip for a moment, watching me.I suddenly realize what position we are in and I pull my arms up to his shoulders, hugging him tightly. He laughs softly--I can hear him against my ear, and he sounds so young, just like he did when he was little...-- and kisses my cheek. I think I'm crying, maybe. My sight is blurring too much and my cheeks are too heated to be sure. But he pulls back a little to look at me, and wipes my cheek with his fingers--still so small, and thin; so white. "What's wrong, Steve?" he asks, concerned about me, and I can see his eyes watering too. Is that because of me? I'm making him cry? "Hm." I don't know what I should say--should I just tell him what's wrong and risk him hating me? I don't know if I could bare that. "Steve!" he exclaims in frustration. I think he is crying now, I can't be sure. Blinking the tears away from my eyes, I almost narrow my eyes at the tears that are frozen on his cheeks, unmoving. I've thought of him so long... and now this way. How will he react? I can't take it. Well, here's to family-- Colors spun in front of my eyes. In the instant my lips touched his I was lost in a world of joy I thought I never existed. His lips taste of chocolate, and there is a pleasurable smell ringing through my senses. Then reality hits when I realize what I've just done. I kissed him. I've just kissed my baby brother; and as disgusted as you may be, I did it, and I am proud of it no matter what you will say or think. I'm almost afraid to pull away from the kiss--I can't tell if he is kissing me back--what if he looks at me like I'm the sickest person in the world? I have to end what I've started; someone may come in. I open my eyes and pull away. I... I can't make out any expression other than realization on his face. That's not a reaction--he hasn't figured out what he thinks yet. I should leave; go back outside, pretend it never happened. But... when I try to walk away, he holds onto me. "I'll be thinking of you." I look back down at him. The first thing I could see was understanding washing over his features--then a warm smile that I thought I wouldn't get back. He buries his face in my chest. And Will says: "I love you too, Steve." 


End file.
